


Good Medicine

by SaltCore



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dr. Ziegler has a laryngoscope and is ready to hand out punitive intubations, Fluff, Human Trash Fire Hanzo Shimada, Hurt Jesse McCree, Hurt/Comfort, Jesse McCree is often wrong but never in doubt, M/M, Worried Hanzo Shimada, min hurt/ max comfort, tooth rotting god I hope you have dental fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 03:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11842794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltCore/pseuds/SaltCore
Summary: Hanzo takes the good doctor's order that he leave the medbay to let the patient rest under advisement, but that's not quite the same asfollowingthe order.





	Good Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote some extra strength fluff for [SJWin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SJWin/pseuds/SJWin) because she had a bad day. 
> 
> There's no tag for swearing I'm as surprised as you are. Who am I and what have I done with me.

                Hanzo shifts his grip on the ledge, worrying his lip ring as he plans his next move. There’s another window sill but there’s also a gap where the prefab units weren’t joined properly. The sea breeze blows up again, whipping his bangs across his eyes. He cannot wait until they’re long enough to tie back with the rest of his hair, though he supposes he’s lucky he didn’t lose the top of his skull when that lock was shorn short by a stray bullet. He still wishes he hadn’t forgotten to borrow a few bobby pins from Hana.

                He decides on the gap in favor of the window sill. There shouldn’t be anybody in that hallway to see him, but the risk isn’t worth it. He wedges his fingers in the gap, replacing his hand on the ledge for his foot, and then shoves off. Despite the sheer drop into the ocean below, he’s as confident on the outside of the building as he is walking inside it, and it doesn’t take him long to traverse the entire hangar to reach the outside of the medbay. It is an older section of the building, and the windows have a lip running around all four sides, perfect for standing on. He counts off windows under his breath until he reaches the right one.

                He reaches down and pulls up on the top of the lower sash, and it slides up almost noiselessly. He slips inside, taking a moment to survey the dark room. Medical equipment lines the walls, most of it off. A few plastic chairs (criminally uncomfortable) line the wall. The room is dominated by a single bed. Standard hospital supply, and currently occupied. Hanzo turns to retrieve the piece of paper he’d wedged into the window that afternoon to keep it from locking properly and stuffs it in his pocket, shutting the window after. He walks to the side of the bed.

                “Jesse?” he says softly. If Jesse’s asleep, he doesn’t want to wake him. He brushes his thumb across the back of Jesse’s hand.

                “’M awake,” he says. "'M watchin'."

                “Of course. You sound very alert.” Hanzo’s lips quirk as Jesse blinks up at him blearily.

                “Not fair. Angie let me have a crack at the happy bin since she locked me in here.”

                “I remember, I was there.”

                Hanzo reaches down to unbuckle his boots and then climbs into the bed with Jesse. It takes a little shuffling to get two grown men settled, and Jesse is especially uncoordinated with a full dose of painkillers in his system, but they manage. Jesse turns his head to look at Hanzo.

                “Hey, handsome,” Jesse says. “You come round here often?”

                Hanzo huffs, brushes some of Jesse’s hair out of his eyes.

                “Far too often. There’s this man, and he just won’t learn to be careful.”

                “He sounds like a handful.”

                “Yes. He’s lucky I find him charming.”

                Jesse hums, practically preening. Hanzo rolls his eyes. He knows better than to feed Jesse’s ego, but here he is doing it again. Maybe a little ego stroking is acceptable when he’s in the medbay.

                “You should get some rest.”

                “I’ve been restin’, I was laid up all day.”

                It’s hardly _rest_ what Jesse’s been doing. He’d taken a piece of shrapnel in the meat of his thigh nine hours ago when things got hot on what was supposed to be some light recon in Turkey. He’d technically come off the Orca under his own power, but he was leaning pretty heavily on Lucio and Morrison, of all people. That right there told Hanzo how much pain he’d been in, if he’d let Morrison help him with anything. Dr. Ziegler had been furious, and for a brief moment Hanzo had thought she’d kill Jesse herself. She’d stared him onto the stretcher and then wheeled him into the medbay, muttering the whole way.

                The wound, while not superficial, wasn’t beyond a commercial biotic patch once Dr. Ziegler deemed it clean. She’d demanded Jesse stay in the medbay to monitor for inflection, though that struck Hanzo as more punitive than curative. She’d chased Hanzo out at precisely 2100, but, well, it hadn’t taken.  It hadn’t been a particularly close call, but Hanzo wasn’t inclined to let Jesse out of his sight just yet.

                “ _Sleep_ ,” Hanzo says. Jesse sighs and closes his eyes. He’s still for a moment, but he starts to fidget and turn.

                “Bed sucks,” Jesse grumbles.

                “If you hadn’t been so stubborn, we could be sleeping in your bed.”

                “Could be your bed.”

                “No, yours, because you’re not bleeding on my sheets.”

                “Aw, I bet not. Let’s try and go for it. It’s prolly—”

                Hanzo’s hand darts out to grab Jesse’s. It had been a few scant inches from picking at the bandage.

                “ _Do not touch that_.” Dr. Ziegler really would kill Jesse if she found it even a millimeter out of place. Hanzo pulls the hand to his chest, for safekeeping. Hopefully Jesse’s high enough to have forgotten about having two hands.

                Jesse pouts at him. It’s a dirty move, but Hanzo refuses to be swayed. He closes he eyes, hoping Jesse will follow his example. Jesse mutters something Hanzo refuses to acknowledge and curls into Hanzo’s chest, tucking his head under his chin. Hanzo relinquishes the arm, wrapping his around Jesse’s shoulders instead and tugging him closer. Jesse sighs contentedly, and starts to relax.

                For all his bold talk, Hanzo doesn’t want to sleep himself. He’ll have to leave soon, Dr. Ziegler will undoubtedly check in sometime in the night. He wants to savor this quiet contentedness while he has it. The infirmary bed is cozier than his own with Jesse in it.

                ---

                Angela shuffles down the hallway towards her medbay. Luckily, there’s only one room occupied, and if Jesse possessed even a modicum of self-preservation instinct it wouldn’t be. But since he’ll undoubtedly have pulled off the biotic patch by now, she’ll have to apply a fresh one. By morning the risk will have passed, and when he ignores her advice it’ll at worst leave him with a scar, rather than sepsis.

                She presses the button for the door to Jesse’s room, and it slides open soundlessly. It wouldn’t do to have squeaky doors waking her patients. She squints into the dark, wondering if she has to bother with a light or if she can get by with the moonlight, when a sound catches her attention. Or rather, _two sounds_. She stares hard at the bed, and now that she’s paying attention, she can see far more than one Jesse McCree’s worth of mass in that bed, and she can hear two very distinct snores.

                Hanzo. Naturally, he’d come back. Angela has half a mind to ream him right now, but she thinks back to how frightened he’d been when Jesse walked off the Orca covered in blood, and how he’d helplessly trailed behind the stretcher all the way to medbay. Jesse had been a much better patient than usual with Hanzo making himself sick with worry in the corner.

                She creeps closer to the bed, because she still has a job to do, and pulls back the blanket. The biotic patch is exactly where she’d left it, even though it must have started to itch. Angela turns a calculating eye to Hanzo.

                She thinks he can stay after all.

**Author's Note:**

> You're playing a dangerous game there, Hanzo, testing a doctor's patience. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and feel free to hmu at https://saltytothecore.tumblr.com/


End file.
